It was a sharp, immediate relief like the snapping of a rope that had constricted her heart for years.

Seeing that first drop of blood – always, when seeing the first drop – something melted. Like a wall of earth crumbling and dissolving in a hard rain. Like a sheet of ice breaking apart and letting a river run free.

Hair would be kept a hue of blue, like the darkest of nights.

Her form always kept bound in leather. Weapons sometimes seen gleaming.

A redolance of a sweet poison ghosting her very presence.

This became a game for the young Kaldorei girl, ever searching for her fate.